Lace
by JenLovegood
Summary: Ginny accidentally exposes herself while discussing something with the potions master.
1. Chapter 1

She leans over in front of me and I can see the little pink bud of her nipple starting to slip from the lace of her camisole. Why the girl isn't wearing a bra, I haven't the slightest. I try to look away, but her head is turned down, looking to some point on the parchment I just can't focus on right now. Her hair, that garish red mop, has fallen down around her face, hiding my eyes from her view.

The lace is black, just like the shirt under her white oxford. I silently curse the lack of ventilation in the dungeons. The steam from the classes cauldrons had caused many of the students to unbutton their or even remove their shirts. I didn't bother taking points. If it weren't for the mark on my arm, I would have gladly joined them.

She leans just further now, and my eyes, which have been riveted to her breasts since she first stood in front of my desk. I feel like a lecherous old man, staring at a 15 year old student's body, but Ginny Weasley, it seems is far more _mature_ than your average 15 year old. And it's been so long since I've seen any woman's body that even just a peak at her nipple is enough to set me off.

Her arm moves, causing her tit to dislodge even further from the fabric. It's out now, and she doesn't even notice. I have to stop myself from reaching out to touch it. I should tell her. I should tell her to fix her shirt. Or that the way the freckles are spread across her chest is both endearing and horrendous. I should tell her that she is losing house points for flashing a teacher. I should tell her to take her shirt off and sit on my lap.

I don't say any of those things. Instead, I tear my eyes away, searching for her face under that mass of curls. I find her eyes and follow them to where she's pointing, finally tuning in to what she's saying.

"...So you see professor, I just don't think I deserve marks off here either. I know that mandrake root in essential in anti-petrification potions, but you said the essay was supposed to be on uses that aren't obvious."

I clear my throat. "Miss Weasley..."

"Oh, professor Snape. Please call me Ginny."

I can feel the blood drain from face, it races somewhere south. _Oh, professor Snape_. It's never had this effect on me before, hearing my name come out of a students mouth, like _that_. I'm not sure I've even heard her right. Her lips are small and pink, and too enticing. I have a very strong urge to get her out of my classroom. Breast hanging out or not.

"Miss Weasley," I say it through gritted teeth. She frowns. "Leave your parchment with me, I will read through it again and revise my grading based on your suggestions as I see fit."

She smiles. A big smile, and her shoulders pick back up. I am still trying not to look, but the way she moved, it did amazing things for her cleavage. My eyes have focused on her chest once more, as she continues to chatter on about some drivel. I need her to leave now. I need her to leave before I do something to her that I will regret.

Finally, the girl turns away, shrugs on her robe and bag. She stops in the doorway, breasts fully covered by black material.

"Thank you, professor Snape." It sounds as if she said it on a sigh, and it is dangerously alluring. I bite back a groan. She waves before turning on her heel and leaving my classroom. I have only fifteen minutes to get rid of the problem her exposed tit has caused. I find myself thinking of her while I touch myself. I imagine those soft pink lips opening in a sigh, her breast and it's twin bouncing as she rides me in my desk chair. It's over quick. I mutter the spell to clean up my mess and make a mental note to stick this particular memory in my pensieve later.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a one shot, but I reread chapter 1 today and inspiration hit. This will probably become a multi-chaptered fic. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and faved.

* * *

><p>I only see Miss Weasley twice more before the school year ends. The day of her last potions class, Albus tells me I may not be returning to my post as potions master in the coming year. I wonder if he knows more than he's letting on about the dark lord's plans for him.<p>

My summer is uneventful and spent among questionable company. It is often enough that alone in dark night of Spinner's End I find myself dreaming of her. In my dreams, her eyes are a little more green, her face a little less round. It is not that I am trying to make her into Lilly. I think I'm simply trying to make her less of a Weasley. To make it more acceptable to be attracted to her.

Usually when I'm dreaming, she is doing more than just riding my cock in my desk chair. The dreams I have... Oh they are so vivid. She comes to me, innocent and inquisitive. She's shy and uncertain. She pouts her lips in curiosity before asking me a question.

_Do you want to touch me?_

_ Don't you want to taste me?_

_ Won't you fuck me, Professor Snape?_

_ You can, you know._

I always do. In most of the dreams she disrobes herself, but the best dreams, the ones I like the most and remember with the most clarity, are the ones in which I get to undress her. She's just so innocent, so in need of instruction. I make her get on her knees and take me in her mouth.

These dreams are all I have. And when Narcissa Malfoy makes me vow to protect her son, I am reminded of how sick I am. Ginevra Weasley is a student, younger than Draco. A mere fifteen year old girl. It is inappropriate for me to be thinking of her like this. But her body... If I had never seen her nipple, if her breast had never been exposed to me, I would never have thought of her like this. I would have no reason to imagine the perfectly round ass and tight pussy hidden under her grey uniform skirt.

But a man can not control his dreams and as the school year gets closer, my dreams take a far more disturbing turn. In my sleep Miss Weasley is mine. I take her where ever I please. I can fuck her from behind in the great hall, her skirt hitched high above her round buttocks. Or I can have her folded in half under me in the quidditch stands. I can even fuck her forcefully against a wall in the dungeons during detention. None of these would be so disturbing if it weren't for the ever present school uniform. If it weren't for the very obvious distinction between teacher and student. If I didn't want to act on it so badly.

But I do. I want her so desperately. I am a sick man.


End file.
